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Wednesday, November 4, 2009

So, no. The two parents CAN'T avoid swine flu it turns out. Not even if it's my birthday. So I spent #36 on the couch, watching my husband pack to go out of town, when he wasn't at a bonus hockey game with one of our kidlings, and then he huffed when I said, "Yes, honey, I still DO want soup and a sandwich from Panera." I spent it on the couch sewing daughter's pointe shoes because gramma asked, "Is there anything I can do for you?" Sure, come down here and take not-sick-daughter to pointe. (She lives a little over an hour away.) "Ohhhh. I don't think I want to get sick." Darn it all! Should've asked for her to LEVITATE my daughter to ballet for me and that would've worked. I spent it on the couch with my six year old son who kept telling me, "My eyes don't want to stay open," on day 5 of his sickness. And with two year old son who was alternately begging for a pacifier and throwing things at people and then laying down on the floor with his head cradled in my feet. And with nine year old son who was supposed to be at the aforementioned hockey game but woke up with a 102 degree fever and so couldn't go. But didn't care. Until the Motrin kicked in. Then he spent the day wanting to DO something and being Boooooooored, Mooooommm. Is it terrible that now that the Motrin has worn off, he has a terrible headache and is moaning and groaning and I'm pleased that he's suffering just a tiny bit? Yeah, I suck as a mom. Maybe that's why I get this fantastic birthday.

Oh, and thanks, mom, for telling me that making homemade pitas is Easy! and Fun! A. They weren't easy. B. That means they weren't fun. And C. They don't even look like pitas! They're like flat, slightly salty, whole wheat dinner rolls. Next time you hand me the successful recipe rather than sending me to a website to "Just pick a recipe they're all essentially the same!" I think your pants are on fire, mommy.

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